All We Are
by Sam The Fantastic
Summary: A collection of Harry Potter short stories.
1. Mudblood

**Disclaimer: I used the dialog from this scene in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows as a guidlines for my story but I do not own any of it. Please Read and Reveiw. :)**

_Mudblood._

The word rang in my ears, cold and cruel, and refused to let me sleep. I slapped my pillow over my head and yanked the blankets up over that. It was completely useless of course but I had to do something, anything to distract myself from the pain of betrayal.

I'd already cried until there were no more tears and my uncontrolled sobs had driven the other girls out of the dormitory and into the common room. I sat up and rubbed my bloodshot eyes. I was exhausted but every time I closed my eyes the only thing I saw was Sev's face twisted in rage as Potter and his friends tormented him. And the hurt in his eyes when he realized what he'd called me. But it didn't matter to me that he felt bad. The damage was done and there was nothing he could do to take that back. And I wasn't going to forgive him easily no matter how hard he begged me to understand. He was probably still sitting outside the common room in front of the portrait of the fat lady waiting for me to change my mind. I wondered how long he would stay there.

"Lily!" the dormitory door slammed opened and my friend Mary stormed in, "He says he's going to sleep there if you don't come out! You'd better go! I can't stand listening to him all night," Her voice went up an octave as she mocked him, "'Just tell her that I'm sorry! She has to understand that I didn't mean it.' I honestly don't know why you're friends with him in the first place-,"

"I'm not!" I said before she could say any more, "Not any more at least. Go back to sleep." And I shut the door behind me.

_She has to understand that I didn't mean it._

What was that supposed to mean? How could he not mean it? He said it! But as I descended the stairs and walked through the common room I knew that I probably would have used the same argument too if I had said something as inexcusable. Something I regretted. As I pushed opened the portrait I almost gave in and forgave him.

He looked so miserable slumped against the wall with his face in his hands that I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. He looked up.

"Lily!" He stood, "I'm sorry."

"Not interested Sev."

"Please! I'm Sorry!"

"It's no use," I glared at him with my arms crossed, showing him how angry I really was, "I'm only here because Mary said you were going to sleep here.

"And I was going to. But I never meant to call you Mudblood Lily!" I ignored the desperation in his voice. I could see in his dark eyes that he was truly sorry but it was too late.

I shook my head slowly. "That's not good enough. It's too late for me to forgive you. Mary doesn't even know why I'm still friends with you," I was angry with him for more than just calling me Mudblood and he knew it. "Those Death Eater friends of yours – and what they do! It's evil Sev! Is that what you want? Do you want to join You-Know-Who?"

He stared at me speechless.

"We've gone our separate ways now," I said quietly, "We're not on the same path. We were never meant to be." I stared at the floor with tears pooling in my eyes.

"Lily," He stepped closer to me putting his hand under my chin. Gently he lifted my face up to his. His lips brushed mine and for a moment I let them linger there. But I knew this would never work. I realized a long time ago that he loved me, but for me he had never been more than just my friend. But recently even that had been destroyed. I stepped away from him and stared at the floor, not daring to meet his gaze.

In a barely audible whisper I said, "Its better this way." And as I turned to climb through the entrance to the tower I _knew _that it was. I don't know how I knew, but somehow I felt that in the greater scheme of it all, Severus had a large part to play. I also knew that he wouldn't be able to play that part if I was there. But it didn't matter. I still regretted my decision.

A cold tear slid silently down my face.


	2. Toujors Pur

Sounds of laughter and friendly conversations leaked from the kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place as dinner was being served, but the mirthful noises of people enjoying themselves was separate from Sirius and made the drawing room seem even more dismal and bleak. But he had no intention of joining them.

It was dark in the drawing room. So dark it was almost pitch black. The only illumination came from the door which stood slightly ajar. A beam of dusty light shot through it from the hallway and threw itself against the wall he was facing. The wall on which hung the ancient tapestry of his family tree. "The most noble and ancient house of black" it read across the top. Sirius glared up at it.

_Not all of its members are so noble now are they? _He thought, placing his index finger over a small scorch mark in the bottom of the tree.

That was where he would have been. If not for his mother's obsession with keeping family tradition, Sirius would still be there. He had been an outcast even before his imprisonment in Azkaban. His own family had shunned him and eventually disowned him, all because he was different and refused to be like them.

Generations upon generations of Blacks had belonged to Slytherin house at Hogwarts. He had been sorted into Gryffindor. Where most of his relatives prided themselves on being purebloods and anti-muggle, he couldn't care less if he had been born half house elf.

_I don't want to be anything like them anyway. _He thought.

Why should he care what they ever thought of him? Most of them were gone now anyway. He wished he wasn't related to them. He wished that his picture had never been on that tapestry for his mother to scorch off in the first place. She would have been happier without him as her son anyway. They were cruel and heartless the lot of them. Mounted the house-elve's heads on the wall for God's sake! A family only to be ashamed of. As far as he was concerned he had never had a mother. And James was more of a brother to him than Regulus had ever been. So why was he still standing here in the dark staring at the family that had rejected him and not enjoying dinner with the rest of the Order? He sighed.

The horrible truth of the matter was that, as much as we all wish it wasn't so, the world had a terrible tendency to reject what is different. Like that muggle saying: the nail that sticks up gets hammered down. He stood out from the rest of them and they had disowned him because of him.

_But I shouldn't be complaining. Look at what Remus has to deal with._

In his school days Sirius had never had trouble making friends or being accepted. He was only ever unpopular with his family. Remus however, until he befriended James and himself, was quiet and kept to himself. Sirius knew now that this was because Remus was afrais of the ridicule that followed him because of what he was. Blimey he almost couldn't get into school because he was a werewolf! No, Sirius was being self centered. Where he only had a family he was ashamed of that rejected him for what he had chosen to become, Remus had the entire world to contend with over something he couldn't help.

Sirius turned and stalked out of the drawing room. Surely he was being unreasonable. It didn't matter what a family as awful as his thought of anyone let alone himself…but his own family…..

No. He never needed a family to tell him who to be.


	3. The Boy Who

"You're a hero Neville." Harry clapped him on the back and said after. Harry said that if it hadn't been for him, Voldemort would be alive somewhere still. If he hadn't had the courage to stand up to Voldemort, pull the sword from the hat and kill the snake, it still wouldn't be over. Because of him it was. Because of him everyone could sleep peacefully in their beds tonight. Because of him there wouldn't be anyone else joining those who had died fighting last night. For once in his life he had finally done something remarkable. He had done something great, something huge, something that would be remembered forever.

But he didn't feel like a hero.

Maybe he had saved everyone from Voldemort in a way. But in those moments when he had defied the Dark Lord, striking out against him killing the snake, and also all year with his attempts at thwarting the Carrows, he had only been doing his part. He was only one person among thousands who had fought. Those who gave their lives, those who fought and survived were just as much heroes as he was. And of course Harry was the real hero as much as he insisted that he wasn't.

He didn't feel like a hero.

He felt like himself. He was Neville Longbottom. He was a Gryffindor. He was proud to be the son of Frank and Alice Longbottom. He loved his Gran who was strict but would always be proud of him. He wasn't the best in any of his classes but he was good at herbology and that was good enough for him, He wasn't the toughest person but he stood by his beliefs and didn't back down. He was all of these things and he was Neville Longbottom.

He may have done something courageous and heroic. He may have done something that would be remembered forever. Neville Longbottom, who could hardly turn a match into a needle, had finally had his moment of glory. But what he did was just what had to be done wasn't it? He didn't feel like a hero.

He felt like himself.


End file.
